The trap of a best friend
Chapter 1
My best friend and I were pregnant at the
same time. We planned to give birth around
the same time.
She ended up with a vaginal tear that
wouldn’t heal right, and she started leaking
pee all the time. So embarrassing for her.
Her baby got stuck for too long during
delivery, and didn’t get enough oxygen. Now,
he’s…slow.
And guess who she blames? Me.
“If you’d just told me to get a C–section,
none of this would have happened!”
One night, while I was asleep, she snuck into
my room.
She straight up smothered my baby with a
pillow. I mean, can you imagine?
But she got off scot–free. They diagnosed her
with postpartum depression and some kind of
mental breakdown. It was a get out of jail free
card for her.
I hadn’t even finished my recovery period. I
was beyond devastated. I grabbed a butcher
knife and went after her. We were both gonna
die.
Then, I woke up. I was back in the hospital,
the day we were both supposed to give birth.
- 1.
Г
“Sarah, come on! You gotta go natural with
me! C–sections are the worst!”
I blinked, trying to figure out where I was. I
saw Jessica sitting on my hospital bed,
shoveling food into her mouth and trying to
convince me to do things her way.
I looked around the room, and my heart
started pounding.
I clutched the edge of the bed.
Was this really happening? Had I really gone
back in time?
Jessica, oblivious, kept talking.
r
“Doctors these days just push C–sections
‘cause they get a kickback, you know?”
Last time, I didn’t listen to her.
Because I have a heart condition. My doctor
said a natural birth was a bad idea.
Jessica thought I was being paranoid.
She spent her whole pregnancy eating
everything in sight, saying she had to feed the
baby.
She gained, like, sixty pounds.
The baby was huge, almost nine pounds.
The doctor recommended a C–section.
On top of that, the baby’s umbilical cord was
wrapped around its neck twice, so it was
dangerous.
I watched her stuff her face and said, “Maybe
we should just listen to the doctors.”
She finished her food, wiped her mouth, and
said, “Whatever, I don’t care. But when your
kid ends up dumb and drooling, don’t come
crying to me!”
She turned to leave, and I grabbed the
bedsheets.
I took a deep breath and put on my shoes.
I was getting the hell out of there. I was going
to transfer hospitals.
L
I barely made it to the door before my
husband, Mark, showed up with a bag of
snacks.
“Did you need anything?” he asked, holding
up the bag.
Mark guided me back towards the bed.
I grabbed his arm.
“I want to transfer,” I said, almost shouting. “I
don’t want to have the baby here.”
Mark looked confused. He tried to figure out
what was going on.
“You’re having surgery in two hours. It’s not
safe to leave now.”
く
I was at St. Mary’s Women’s Hospital.
First General Hospital was only a fifteen-
minute drive away.
Everyone said St. Mary’s was the best, but I
couldn’t worry about that right now.
Mark thought I was just nervous.
He squeezed my hand.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right outside the operating
room.”
I started to say something, but then a
contraction hit.
The app told me I was having them every ten
minutes
く
minutes.
I was already a centimeter dilated.
But I wasn’t even close to being ready, I had
come to the hospital once my labor had
started naturally.
Mark saw my face turn white. He made me sit
down.
“I’ll go see if they can move the surgery up.”
I grabbed his arm and waited for the pain to
pass.
I took a deep breath and told him, “What if I
told you I was reliving the past? Would you
believe me?”
Mark looked at me silently for three seconds.
Then he said, “Yeah, I would.”
